


There's Us

by Vipersweb (Rhianona)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-26
Updated: 2008-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-10 12:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhianona/pseuds/Vipersweb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto Jones believes he lives his life in a sensible manner. When he's hurt, he realizes he doesn't know much at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twisted_vergule](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=twisted_vergule).



> Disclaimer: [Insert witty comment here] Torchwood doesn't belong to me
> 
> Written for a Sweet Charity winning bid for twisted_vergule, who wanted a Ianto-centric h/c piece, with Sense and Sensibility as the prompt. Note that all quotes are from the Gutenberg online edition of Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility, which was the best way I could come up with to use her prompt.
> 
> Betaed by the ever beauteous A. Ross. Any further mistake are my own.

_Elinor, this eldest daughter, whose advice was so effectual, possessed a strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment, which qualified her, though only nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother, and enabled her frequently to counteract, to the advantage of them all, that eagerness of mind in Mrs. Dashwood which must generally have led to imprudence. She had an excellent heart;—her disposition was affectionate, and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern them: it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn; and which one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught._

_***Now***_

In retrospect, it shouldn't have come as a surprise. They had gone without injury for a record six weeks. Given the statistics - and Ianto had done enough research that he had the data to back up his claim - a member of Torchwood Three suffered from a work-related injury once every three days or so. The injury needn't be life-threatening; most were not, in fact, but it did include everything from bruises due to being thrown into a wall whilst capturing whatever rogue alien the Rift had thrown at them, to scratches from Weevil retrieval. To have gone so long without so much as a paper cut should have impinged on someone's - well, Ianto's - mind when the alert went out. Sadly it had not.

The alien - something large and lithe and silver - moved at incredible speed. It had already killed a number of bystanders - and really, Ianto did not understand why aliens insisted on congregating in Splott - an area already the pit of the Earth, and where the death and injury rates due to aliens were quite astronomically high (and he should really ask Tosh to figure out if there was something about the place which simply drew the alien) - by the time Torchwood arrived at the scene. Having a healthy sense of survival, the local constabulary forces had gratefully ceded control of the area to Torchwood. Jack instructed the team where to go and to remain in contact.

Ianto suspected he actually knew what they were up against.

They had spread out, like good little soldiers, staying within earshot of each other as they carefully quartered the area, seeking out the alien. Ianto had thought he had seen something from the corner of his eye, something that appeared to merge from the wall, shining in the meager lamplight that lined the streets. He turned towards it warily - which was when the being sprang out, seemingly from nowhere, and slashed at his chest and legs.

"Where the fuck is it?" he heard Owen ask in his ear, even as Ianto ignored the pain and focused on the alien as it weaved back and forth before him. He could hear chatter on his comm - "Don't know, Owen. Sorry if this is keeping you from pulling tonight," Jack commented drily. Gwen giggled; it seemed her default when dealing with Owen since she decided to make things work with Rhys. None of this helped Ianto of course, and really, he was going to have to have a word with his teammates about that when this was all over and done with.

Ianto blinked as his vision started to blur, his gun starting to waver, his arm suddenly heavy; only the training drilled into him by Peter, by Ally and Clara and - most recently, Jack - kept his gun even somewhat trained on the alien as it attempted to flee. Jack had already given them the kill order - this being was far too dangerous to even attempt to transport back to the Hub and for once, Ianto wasn't going to complain at the potential loss of life. Somehow, he strong doubted this alien - whatever species it was - had come to Earth in peace.

It always astounded him just how many visitors from outer space took it upon themselves to visit Earth. It wasn't as if this planet was particularly advanced or could offer them anything truly unique. Except possibly coffee. He hadn't gotten around to asking Jack about the potential for that commodity as of yet.

He breathed in deeply, holding himself still, legs locked to anchor him to the here and now. Time seemed to slow; silly really, but whenever he ended up in situations like this (less often than _before_, but more often than he cared to admit) it always seemed as if he existed in an isolated bubble where nothing else mattered but him and his gun and whatever threatened him. He carefully aimed and fired his sidearm. Later, he would realize what fucking _luck_ he'd had in hitting the creature in its vital points, considering how it wended and weaved as it tried to escape from him. Later, when he chased down and read the medical report from this incident, he'd be shocked that despite the massive amount of blood loss he'd lost, it hadn't affected his aim. Gwen assumed it was due to Jack's training; he didn't have the heart to tell her that just because his title had been Junior Researcher, it didn't mean he hadn't been on an active team in London - a team that was now dead and gone for a little over a year - and really, he didn't want to go there. Jack had swept Canary Wharf and Torchwood One under the proverbial rug and Ianto didn't particularly wish to deal with the memories that reopening that wound would require.

The alien fell against the wall; Ianto's knees buckled, his gun clattering to the pavement, as he suddenly felt the adrenalin leave him. He could hear the others screaming in his ear, asking if he was okay and what was going on. His vision centered on what was before him: silver blood pooling from the alien's body; Ianto's positive he could see patterns in it and wondered if he'd discovered the secrets of the world. He tried to giggle, but it ended in a cough. He was dimly aware that he was probably in a lot of trouble; he'd not felt this bad since the cannibals in Brecon Beacons.

"Oh fuck! Ianto!" he heard through a tunnel, his senses dulled. He smiled as he saw Peter and Ally and Clara waiting for him, just up ahead. He frowned as he saw Lisa move into view. Why was she there? She was dead; killed first by the Cybermen and then later still by his team. Thinking of Canary Wharf only reminded him that his team was also dead: Peter, with his Northern accent, and quiet stolidness; Ally, her laughter infectiousness, and so utterly fierce despite her short height; and Clara, originally from Tilburg and absolutely adorable with her faintly accented English, who could walk into any pub and be surrounded by all sorts of people vying for her attention, and yet remained so humble and kind. He didn't understand; Lisa appeared as she had the morning of Canary Wharf: beautiful and whole. Peter, Ally and Clara shouldn't be looking at him with fond gazes either, for that matter.

"What's going on? Lisa? Why are you here?" he asked, confused, a frown crossing his face. To his frustration, no one answered him.

***

_"Now, Edward," said she, calling his attention to the prospect, "here is Barton valley. Look up to it, and be tranquil if you can. Look at those hills! Did you ever see their equals? To the left is Barton park, amongst those woods and plantations. You may see the end of the house. And there, beneath that farthest hill, which rises with such grandeur, is our cottage."_

_***Then***_

Torchwood had access to some of the greatest medical technologies conceivable to man. This was something Ianto had learned within his first week at the job. A miscatalogued piece of alien tech had exploded, shrapnel flying throughout the room and Ianto found himself in the gleaming white of Torchwood's infirmary. He couldn't help but gape at it's setup; of all the rooms in which he's passed through in the last week, none have lived up to the alien nirvana he had assumed he would find once he started this position. But this, this was exactly what he had dreamed he would see.

"First time here?" the doctor asked him, a smile on her lips as she scanned his wounds with some sort of devices that beeped and blinked different colors.

"Yes… is it that obvious?" he responded with a rueful smile as he watched the lesions and gouges disappear before his eyes, not even leaving a scar.

"Just a bit; you must have just started."

"First week."

"Ah. Well, hopefully I won't be seeing you too often." She smiled as the machine finished whatever it was doing. "All right then. Make sure to let me or your supervisor know if something doesn't feel right with you in the next week or so."

Ianto felt his eyebrows raise at that point. As fantastic as that device was, he didn't like the implication that his new employers weren't exactly certain of the safety of the devices they used on those who worked for them. Presumably, it was safe enough - perhaps the doctor had told him that in case he reacted badly to the device's treatment? He rebuttoned his shirt and made his way back to his now-destroyed work area, wondering if every day was going to be as eventful as this one.

***

'Junior Researcher was a bit of a misnomer as far as job titles went,' Ianto reflected as he carefully handled his latest assignment. In actuality, the job title encompassed so much more than research. He and his team often went into the field to _find_ the things on which they spend their days working. His team leader, Peter, made sure he had the skills necessary to handle being in the field, something he knew he was lucky to have. He had heard some horror stories from other new recruits.

_"Where are you off to, then Jonesy?" Ann Marie asked him as he hastily excused himself from lunch. _

"Weapon's training," he told her unable to keep the excitement he felt from creeping into his voice.

"Oh, you lucky dog, you," Ann Marie said enviously. "You lucked out, Jonesy. Most of the teams don't bother showing their noobs anything until they've been around for a few months. Something about not wanting to waste their time on someone who's not going to be around for long."

Ianto just smiled. He knew he was lucky.

***

_To do him justice, he did every thing in his power to promote their unreserve, by making the Miss Steeles acquainted with whatever he knew or supposed of his cousins' situations in the most delicate particulars,—and Elinor had not seen them more than twice, before the eldest of them wished her joy on her sister's having been so lucky as to make a conquest of a very smart beau since she came to Barton._

_***Now***_

Pain. Ianto groaned as he fought to consciousness. Someone gripped his hand, murmuring words he couldn't decipher. A low beeping sounded in the background; the coarseness of the bedclothes beneath him had him rustling with some discomfort, a frown on his face.

"Ianto?" he heard distantly. It was a male voice, strangely familiar. "Owen! He's waking!'

"Pet'r? Tha' you?" he asked groggily, blinking his eyes open. Blurred images assaulted his vision. "H'rts," he moaned as a particularly vicious pain stabbed through his abdomen. "Duw!" He tried to curl up into himself but could only move feebly. Discomfort encompassed his being, even as he saw a second shadow hurrying to his side; the second person checked the readings on the machine before slipping something into the I.V. running into the back of his hand. Agonizingly slow moments later, Ianto could feel the pain recede. He once again slipped into the darkness. He welcomed it this time, here he felt nothing.

Had he remained conscious, he would have felt the first man gripping his hand tightly while brushing his lips against his own. He would have seen the doctor carefully examine the wounds left by the alien and suggest that the first man get some rest. Or at least shower. He would have seen a woman of Japanese descent take the first man's place, while another woman stood watch over both of them.

But he didn't see any of this.

***

_To atone for this conduct therefore, Elinor took immediate possession of the post of civility which she had assigned herself, behaved with the greatest attention to Mrs. Jennings, talked with her, laughed with her, and listened to her whenever she could; and Mrs. Jennings on her side treated them both with all possible kindness, was solicitous on every occasion for their ease and enjoyment, and only disturbed that she could not make them choose their own dinners at the inn, nor extort a confession of their preferring salmon to cod, or boiled fowls to veal cutlets. They reached town by three o'clock the third day, glad to be released, after such a journey, from the confinement of a carriage, and ready to enjoy all the luxury of a good fire._

_***Then***_

He first met Lisa in Torchwood's infirmary. She was there when one of the alien devices she was reverse engineering decided to explode, showering her with shrapnel. Fortunately, none of the myriad wounds pierced something vital. When Ianto's team escorted him in, complete with purple skin, Dr. Townes greeted him with a friendly grin; his visits to the infirmary were more common than he particularly liked, but considering she was able to heal him without leaving a scar on him, he didn't complain too much. And frankly, the Torchwood infirmary was far nicer and quieter than the local A&amp;E. She wanted to keep him overnight for observation - his exposure to an alien chemical concerned her more than the usual bumps and scratches for which he usually saw her.

 

"You'll be here for the night as well, Lisa. Go on and keep him company," Dr. Townes ordered with a mischievous grin. Ianto frowned a little bit, before forcing a smile to his face and turning towards the woman called Lisa. Dr. Townes had been trying to set him up with someone since he became a frequent visitor and not an occasional one. Lisa was gorgeous and exactly Ianto's type. He was more than happy when his unfortunate skin tone did not turn her off and by the morning, when Peter came to pick him up and Dr. Townes had dismissed him from her care, he had secured Lisa's mobile number and a date for the upcoming Friday.

Clara and Ally made sure to tease him - it was their right as team members (or so they claimed) - after Peter accidentally divulged news of the date later that morning. Later, they did their best to give him ideas of where to take her in London. Torchwood did not allow for much free time and while he'd lived there for almost a year, he hadn't had a lot of time to explore.

It was moments like that though, that made Ianto more than grateful that he had joined Peter's team and not another. Ann Marie complained bitterly about her research team and was hoping to transfer the next time an opening occurred. David had gone through five teams since he had joined Torchwood - a little over a year ago. He confessed that Yvonne had so-very-sweetly suggested that he make this latest team work for him. So he tried his best to do just that.

Everyone knew that Yvonne Hartman was the scariest aspect of working for Torchwood.

Rajiv hadn't lasted more than three months on a research team before being moved to an admin only position. He actually preferred that. Amita hadn't actually started in research, but even she had transferred to another team in logistics before the her one year anniversary.

It all sounded quite terrible really; the constant shuffling of employees from one position or group of people to another position or group. But Yvonne believe in teamwork and team spirit: Torchwood was a modern 21st Century company and by God, they would ensure that all their workers remained happy - happy workers meant more efficiency, and more efficient workers meant that Torchwood was well on its way to obtaining it's goal of resurrecting the British Empire.

Personally, Ianto felt that Torchwood's unofficial motto was little more than balderdash. The British Empire had fallen nearly fifty years ago, the Americans taking their moment in the sun. Even if, by some miracle, Torchwood managed to _find_ something that would allow the British to ascend once again, he didn't think even the very brightest of them could _understand_ how to use whatever it was, in a wise manner. He was under no illusions as to the power hungry nature of the directors.

None of this was really enough to keep him from enjoying - loving, if he was honest - his job. The other three had adopted him and helped him to navigate the labyrinthine world that is Torchwood. He was warned when to duck his head, when to just smile and nod, when to quietly _ sure_ something got permanently lost in the archives, or quietly sent to Cardiff. He _knew_ none of the others that had joined Torchwood at the same time as he, had that type of support. If that meant he had to endure some lighthearted teasing, he wasn't going to complain.

***

_He came, examined his patient, and though encouraging Miss Dashwood to expect that a very few days would restore her sister to health, yet, by pronouncing her disorder to have a putrid tendency, and allowing the word "infection" to pass his lips, gave instant alarm to Mrs. Palmer, on her baby's account. Mrs. Jennings, who had been inclined from the first to think Marianne's complaint more serious than Elinor, now looked very grave on Mr. Harris's report, and confirming Charlotte's fears and caution, urged the necessity of her immediate removal with her infant; and Mr. Palmer, though treating their apprehensions as idle, found the anxiety  
and importunity of his wife too great to be withstood._

_***Now***_

Three days after Owen first sedated him, Ianto opened his eyes again. This time, the pain was manageable - stinging and throbbing dully - but not bone-aching and scream-worthy. He could deal with this. He was surprised to see Tosh sleeping in the comfortable arm chair they had placed in the long-term care med room; she looked exhausted, shadows playing across her face, light seeping in from the hall. The quiet beep of machines echoed in the background, and he wondered mildly how long he'd been out.

He must have made a noise, or maybe the discomfort of sleeping in a chair finally became too much, and Tosh opened her eyes. She blinked at him sleepily and he was struck by how pretty she was, how innocent, and defenseless she could be (Brecon Beacons had certainly disabused him of any notions he might have once had regarding her ability to handle the unexpected), and he wondered how she's able to hold onto that while working for Torchwood. He certainly hadn't.

"Ianto! You're awake!" She scrambled out of her chair, nearly tripping over the afghan draped over her lap, and went to his side.

Ianto smiled - or attempted to. "Hey," he tried to say, but his throat was too dry and tightened up. She seemed to understand though, or maybe she'd been around enough people who'd returned to consciousness that she knew he needed to wet his throat. She reached to the side table and carefully popped a couple of ice chips into his mouth. Her hand moved to the top of his head and he was surprised when she stroked his hair.

"We were all so worried when we saw you next to the Gr'o'kush'ner. I don't think Jack or Owen have ever moved so quickly!"

Ianto's surprised at her words; sure, he's a part of the team - he went out in the field, and the others knew they could rely on him when needed. After his abysmal performance in Brecon Beacons, he realized he needed to stop playing around and remember what Peter had taught him. By the time Jack had disappeared and they needed another field agent, he had regained most of what he had lost in the months since Canary Wharf. Hours spent at the weapons range, remembering the weight and _feel_ of a gun, retraining muscles he'd let fall fallow. He'd even signed up for a martial arts class at a nearby dojo. Fortunately, Jack hadn't asked him to where he disappeared - he just seemed happy that Ianto left the Hub and was no longer haunting it like a wraith he had been close to becoming.

He could still remember Gwen's astonishment at his competency the first time they went out in the field after Jack disappeared _(abandoned them)_; Tosh and Owen were less surprised, but then Owen still bore the scar from the bullet Ianto put into him, so maybe he had taken to heart Ianto's words that he had shot the doctor where he meant to and not flubbed the shot. He looked at her blankly - something perfected long before Torchwood, but refined under the tutelage of Ally and Clara, both of whom saw his baby-faced demeanor as too tempting for the directors at Torchwood. "Never give them anything to latch onto, Ianto," had been their advice and he had embraced it with a fervor that probably surprised them as much as it pleased them. Whatever questions she wanted to ask died on her lips, and he couldn't help but be grateful because, damn it, he hadn't appeared without any experience. He might have cajoled and stalked Jack into hiring him for his own selfish reasons. Torchwood One might have been different from Three, but they were all still Torchwood in the end, no matter how much Jack wanted to deny it.

He brought his attention back to Tosh, who was fussing around him in a way she hadn't since the Brecon Beacons. He realized he had missed some of what she said, as he caught the tail end of her comment, "… are out - Weevils this time, but Jack said he wanted to know when you woke." She gave him a mischievous look and he _knew_ that despite the care in which they've taken to keep their relationship _private_ because really? Ianto still hadn't wrapped his head around the fact he's dating and sleeping with the man whose both his boss and the one who had killed the remnants of Lisa - they've slipped up enough that Tosh at least was aware that they had restarted whatever they had before Jack left.

At least Tosh was discrete enough not to tease him in front of Owen or Gwen. He didn't need the first's derision or the latter's inability to leave well enough alone, asking him "is he's sure he knows what he's doing?" Gwen was a sweetheart, but she didn't seem to realize that while he _was_ the youngest, he had almost as many years at Torchwood as Owen and Tosh. And yeah, maybe it's not exactly healthy that he's sleeping with the guy responsible for killing his cybernetic girlfriend, but it's a damned sight better than relying on alcohol or drugs or shagging random strangers just to _feel_ something other than Torchwood.

And no, he didn't want to even try and parse the logic behind shagging the boss just to forget about Torchwood for a little bit, when said boss essentially embodied Torchwood.

Tosh looked at him expectedly and he smiled at her weakly, hoping she didn't ask just what was going through his head. The drugs Owen's pumped into him must be the really good stuff because he's thinking about things he's never put name to before. He's grown used to his position on the team: tea boy and archivist, the general dogsbody who cleaned up their shit, and went out in the field with them, and did what needed to be done, no questions asked. He'd grown used to being nearly invisible, even if he'd lately been pushing himself more to the front than he had ever before. Even Tosh took him for granted sometimes, even if she always said thank you and apologized if she knew he was overworked.

But now, it's as if she's channeling Ally and he didn't know how to react. Ally - gorgeous, beautiful Ally - killed at Canary Wharf, "deleted" by the Cybermen as she helped to evacuate the building; Ally who had taken one look at the blue-eyed, fresh-faced _young_ Welshman and realized that there was no way he'd survive Torchwood without some intervention. She adopted him, took him under her wing and bullied Peter and Clara into helping her. Ally always fussed around him when he ended up in the infirmary, always made sure he was doing okay or feeling better, asked if he needed anything, before heading home.

Jack told him he was a part of Torchwood Three, and Gwen had insisted that Ianto not return solely to the general support position he had once held, but until this moment, he hadn't really realized that maybe it wasn't just words.

***

Boots came slamming down the corridor, followed by the sniping that Owen loved to do, the pointed remarks that "tea boy isn't going anywhere" and "calm the fuck down Jack!" and the rest of the team burst into the room. Tosh had left to alert the others of his waking and to warm up some soup for him to try and eat - Owen had okayed that much before heading out for the weevil hunt. He's grateful for that at least, as his stomach was more than happy to let him know that it's empty.

"Ianto!" Jack exclaimed as he strode in, larger than life, coat flapping and looking so fucking heroic that Ianto couldn't help but smile. This was Jack and a part of him was pleased that he's not acting any differently than before. Of course then Jack stood next to the bed and bent down and _kissed_ him as if he were about to disappear. Ianto looked at him, puzzled and not a little bit shocked at the look of pure relief and happiness and _love_ that flashed through Jack's eyes before he hid it.

"Move out of the way Harkness. Let me see how's he doing," Owen ordered gruffly and Ianto was once again shocked when Jack moved without complaining or suggesting something completely inappropriate. Jack captured his hand and gripped it tightly while Owen checked him over. Ianto had avoided actually looking at the damage done to his body while Tosh had been in the room; that he's still alive was enough for him. He had suspected the injuries he had sustained were serious - Tosh's relief and pleasure at his waking had been too real and deep for it to mean anything else. He hadn't had a chance to ask her how long he'd been out either. Whatever the answer to that was, he certainly hadn't expected the extent of the damage. Ugly and jagged, he now sported deep gouges from the top of his chest diagonally to his left hip. Twin lines ran halfway down one of his thighs and as he watched Owen carefully, oh-so-carefully uncover and dress the wounds, he couldn't help but wish for at least one or two of the medical devices destroyed at Canary Wharf. He wondered what Dr. Townes would say about this latest set of injuries and his mouth quirked. He could see her now, hands on hips, shaking her head and admonishing him. "Take it easy Jonesy," she would have said. "If you wanted to see me, you should have called. No need to get so banged up just to see me."

His head fell back against his pillow and he closed his eyes at the sudden urge to cry. Fuck. Dr. Townes, with her gorgeous blonde hair, always pulled back into a bun, her green eyes, usually sparkling with laughter as if she knew some joke to which no one else was privy, and her posh London accent, had been just one more name on the list of the dead. What he wouldn't give to see her again, to hear her scolding him. He opened his eyes and saw Jack look at him, saw the concern in his eyes and forced a tight smile to his lips, squeezed the hand holding his, and tried to push his memories back into the depths of his mind.

"Well Tea Boy, it looks like you're not dying this time. Everything's healing as nicely as can be expected," Owen finally said as he finished re-bandaging the wounds. "You're taking it easy though. Definitely not leaving here for a few more days. And then you have light duty until you regain full movement." He tossed the used gloves into the biohazard bin near the bed. "I mean it though. Nothing strenuous. I don't need to stitch you up again if you pop anything doing something you're not supposed to." Ianto flushed as he saw the rather pointed look aimed at Jack. _Guess more than Tosh had realized he and Jack were back together._

"I'll make sure he rests," Jack answered and for once, his voice wasn't laden with innuendo or the hint of anything but seriousness. Not for the first time, Ianto wondered just how seriously injured he had been. Everyone was acting strangely and he was starting to freak out, just a little bit. This wasn't his team from Torchwood-One and he didn't _understand_ why they were acting like they all cared for him.

He looked towards the door as Gwen came through. He didn't even have time to half-hope that she would act as she always had, before she's pushing Jack out of the way and gripping his hand in hers. "Oh sweetheart! I'm so glad you're awake. We've been so worried!" She bussed her lips against his check.

Ianto honestly didn't know how to respond. "Thank you," he finally got out, and that must have been enough because she smiled at him and moved aside. Tosh entered with a tray and a bowl of soup and it was all Ianto could do not to kiss her in thanks. She carefully placed the tray over his lap and handed him the spoon. For half a second he thought Gwen would insist on feeding him herself but she settled back into the chair into which she had claimed. Tosh moved back to her original chair and Owen perched on a stool at the end of his bed, ostensibly updating his medical records. Jack reclaimed his position by Ianto's side and watched and smiled as Ianto slowly ate the soup Tosh had brought him. He was starting to freak out though as the silence seemed to drag on and his teammates were all staring at him and smiling encouragingly whenever he caught their eyes, and he's just about to scream when Tosh suddenly asked how the Weevil retrieval mission had gone. He breathed a sigh of relief that he knew Jack caught but hoped the others hadn't, when Gwen began to babble about it. Slowly, the others were drawn into the recap and Ianto was able to finish eating without everyone watching his every move.

After he carefully placed his spoon to the side of his bowl, Gwen was quick to take it off his lap and return it to the kitchen. Owen handed him a cup of pills and he was starting to hurt just enough that he welcomed the numbness they would bring.

"Remember what I said Ianto. Don't move around. I'm not redoing all my hard work because you decide to be a wanker."

"Thanks Owen. I promise to remain in bed," Ianto told him.

Owen snorted. "Yeah, like that'll stop Jack. You pop any stitches and I'm bringing you to the A&amp;E." Ianto didn't have anything to say to that and Owen left, leaving just Tosh and Jack.

"How're you feeling Ianto?" Tosh asked quietly after he had finished the glass of water Jack had given him to take the pills.

"Stiff." And it's true. His body felt heavy in a way that it hadn't since the time he and his team at One had tangled with the clan of Trugolth and they had all landed in the infirmary for a week. Brecon Beacons had come close to that level of pain, but hadn't surpassed it.

Gwen reentered with mugs of coffee and handed them to the others. Ianto inhaled the scent and even if it's not as good as his - and he really hoped they hadn't broken the coffee machine while he'd been incapacitated - he could still appreciate the aroma. Gwen looked as if she wanted to start mothering him and he was just not comfortable with allowing her to do that so he asked, "What's been happening?"

And this was how he heard that after they found him and the Gr'o'kush'ner had been disposed of, they had taken shifts staying with him. Apparently the creature's claws had some sort of dangerous chemical on them that acted partially as a poison and partially as an anticoagulant. It had only been in the last twelve hours that Owen had been certain he would pull through. He heard how the Rift had been quiet for once and this allowed them all to sit with him, and how Rhys hoped he recovered soon because he wanted Ianto to join him and Banana Boat at the pub for the next big match. He smiled and nodded and agreed, because he did miss going out with the lads and supporting his team, even if Banana Boat drove him insane. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep and the last thing he remembered was Tosh and Gwen calling a soft good night to him and Jack while Jack kissed him softly and whispered something to him in a language he didn't understand. He would have to remember to ask what it meant later.

***

_The agony of grief which overpowered them at first, was voluntarily renewed, was sought for, was created again and again. They gave themselves up wholly to their sorrow, seeking increase of wretchedness in every reflection that could afford it, and resolved against ever admitting consolation in future._

_***Then***_

In the end, Ianto stumbled on the remains of his team long before he found Lisa. He had all but given up hope of finding her in the wreckage and then he did, and he was crying and screaming while trying to free her half-converted body from the machine that had stopped before it could finish its nightmarish Frankenstein task. He managed to drag her into the hall before the ceiling collapsed on the room in which she had been. He didn't really remember the next few hours but in the end, he had dragged her free and hidden her while he tried to find a way to help her. Eventually, this meant returning to Cardiff and getting a job with Torchwood-Three.

Clara had giggled, with her faint Dutch accent, when she had told him about Three: the sexy, enigmatic Captain Jack Harkness, who had broken from London after acceding to the head of the branch when the previous leader had gone mad and shot everyone else before turning the gun on himself. No one knew why Harkness was the sole survivor.

Harkness, so Clara reported, did not like Yvonne and had very little to do with her. He resisted any and all attempts by London to gain a foothold in his city. Eventually, Yvonne had given up on trying to control him; instead she kept an eye on him and his team and made sure that she was in position to capitalize at the first hint of vulnerability.

Despite this, a small number of the research teams occasionally sent certain objects to Cardiff. Objects that were deemed too dangerous to leave in London and under Yvonne's care. Ianto hadn't learned why until it had become obvious that he fit in with the team quite nicely.

"You have to understand, Ianto. This job is really amazing. And someone needs to find and study these things that are left around. But some of them are way too dangerous, way too advanced for us to use or even study safely," Peter explained to him in an area far from their work and out of sight from any CCTV cameras. Ally and Clara sat next to them and nodded earnestly in agreement. "But the directors wouldn't accept that and would insist we figure out how it works, and then how we can produce it ourselves so we can use it. And as much as Harkness is a rebel, he knows how to keep his mouth shut. We send things to him, quiet like, and he just archives them. Besides, there's more to what Yvonne says as to why she doesn't like him."

Looking at the three people who had taken him in and helped him adjust to working for Torchwood, Ianto knew he was at a crossroad. They had taken a risk in tell him this and he suspected if he even hinted at reporting to Yvonne or one of the other directors, he'd find himself retconned and on another team before he knew it. But the thing was, he _liked_ them and he had come to trust what they had told him in the weeks since he had joined them. If Peter, who had been with Torchwood the longest of the team, declared it was for the best to send certain objects to Cardiff, who was he to disagree? He voiced just that and smiled as Clara squealed and hugged him. From that moment forward, he had a surrogate family.

***

To Ianto's initial relief, Three was diametrically different from One. He had Lisa to worry about and didn't have time to mourn his old team while getting to know his new one. He slipped in as general support and took over each and every task they others didn't want or considered beneath them before the week was out. He didn't make an effort to get to know them and they reciprocated with their disinterest. Owen and Suzie, he knew, believed Jack had hired him for his looks, and Jack didn't disabuse that notion with his incessant flirting. Tosh was too wrapped up in pretending not to notice the flirting between Suzie and Owen, while working on a complex computer program to do more than thank Ianto for the coffee he brought to her. Jack insisted on having conversations with him though, and Ianto quickly learned the easiest way to deal with Jack was to flirt. He never let it get too far - he had Lisa after all - but he also enjoyed the quick exchange of words and laden innuendo.

Later, after Lisa, Tosh confessed that Jack had ordered that they all take it easy on him - to give him space so that he grew used to working with a new team. Jack had recognized Peter's name as one of the London team leaders who would occasionally send him dangerous technology to keep out of Yvonne's hands. He had known that Peter considered his team family and assumed that Ianto had felt the same. And even though Ianto had never (and still didn't) speak of his former team with the members of Three, Jack hadn't wanted anyone to open up emotional wounds Ianto wasn't ready to deal with. Ianto was grateful and made sure Jack had extra biscuits for the next week; Jack never asked why and this was just one more reason why Ianto liked the man.

It took everyone a while to forgive Ianto for Lisa. Surprisingly, Owen was the first one to do so; it was only after Owen got Ianto really drunk and told him about Katie and how he would have done anything to save her, that he understood why it was easier for Owen to forgive him for hiding Lisa. Owen still snarked at Ianto though, and gave him a hard time, but at least Ianto knew he wasn't going to find himself dumped in some hospital with no memory of the last four years. Owen had also warned him that if he found out that Ianto was hiding anything else from them, he would cheerfully help Jack put a bullet in his brain.

Ianto enjoyed Owen's blunt honesty.

Tosh was the next to forgive him; she brought him coffee and little snacks, and invited him to join her at the cinema when a movie she thought he might like opened. She seemed more upset with herself for not noticing that something was wrong with him than anything else. After Mary and after the Beacons, she went to him for comfort and asked him why and how he remained. He didn't know what to tell her, so he just held her as she cried.

Ianto knew Jack forgave him when the man started touching and flirting with him. He can't help but breath a sigh of relief because despite the desperation and panic he had felt while trying to cure Lisa, he also really liked the Captain and hated what he was doing. The four weeks of suspension had gone a long way in helping him realize that Jack had been right: Lisa had died at Canary Wharf, and the abomination that inhabited her body was too dangerous to try and save.

It didn't help him sleep much better at night, but it did help a little bit.

When Gwen insisted on trying to get Ianto to open up and discuss his feelings with her, it was all Ianto could do to grit his teeth and politely but firmly tell her that while he appreciated her concern, he had others he could speak to about Torchwood-One. Even if he wanted to speak to someone about Canary Wharf and Lisa, it wouldn't be Gwen - she hadn't experienced the heartache and disaster Torchwood actually was. He and Tosh both suspected she thought the incident with Suzie was nothing more than anomaly.

Neither had the heart to disillusion her.

But even with forgiveness, the others really don't make an effort to make him _feel_ like he's a part of the team. Oh they invited him when they went to the pub, and he and Tosh had a standing date each Thursday, barring an apocalypse, and he and Jack had whatever they had, but he still felt as if he was outside looking in. And he knew it was partially his fault, but Torchwood had ripped him open and shredded his heart twice already and he wasn't sure he could deal with the loss if something happened to this new team. He's like a half-feral cat; he edged around the perimeter of the team, sometimes coming close but sidled away as soon as something startled him.

He appreciated that Jack granted him the time and space to feel his way around Three. For a man who could be so pushy and vocal, he was remarkably patient with Ianto.

***

_Elinor now found the difference between the expectation of an unpleasant event, however certain the mind may be told to consider it, and certainty itself. She now found, that in spite of herself, she had always admitted a hope, while Edward remained single, that something would occur to prevent his marrying Lucy; that some resolution of his own, some mediation of friends, or some more eligible opportunity of establishment for the lady, would arise to assist  
the happiness of all. But he was now married; and she condemned her heart for the lurking flattery, which so much heightened the pain of the intelligence._

_***Now***_

The pain meds wore off sometime in the middle of the night. Ianto groaned as the thrumming aches made themselves known. Turning his head, he saw Jack reading some files in the chair in which he had first seen Tosh. It was such a familiar sight to him that Ianto could almost believe they were at his flat or in the miniscule excuse of a room that Jack claimed as his in the Hub.

"Hey," he called out softly, not wanting to startle the Captain but hoping Owen had left some pain killers for him to take.

He clearly startled the man as the file fell to the floor. "Ianto! You're awake!"

"Yep."

"In pain?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Well, I got something for that," Jack smirked. And there was that innuendo that had been missing from Jack's interactions since Ianto had first woken. Ianto smiled with relief; he didn't really know how to deal with a serious Jack. At least not when he was on painkillers.

Jack invaded his personal space by sitting on the edge of his bed, helping him to take the numerous pills Owen had given to him. The warmth of his hands, gently touching and caressing, brought a smile to his face. "Careful sir. Wouldn't want me to get too excited."

It's a joke, but Jack looked at him with such serious eyes that Ianto wondered if he had said something wrong.

"Jack?"

Suddenly, it's like that night, months ago, when they sent Tommy back through the Rift, and Ianto finally decided to take that last frightful step and really give Jack another chance; to stop pretending he's just marking time until Jack decided he was tired of the Welshman and left him for a more interesting bed partner. For all that Jack was a rather verbose man, he and Ianto never really spoke about what they were actually _doing_ together. They enjoyed each other's company, and had really amazing sex. They even made it out to an actual restaurant for dinner every so often, and once, they had gone to the cinema. But then Jack would act in a matter that caused Ianto to question why the immortal man was passing time with him and he just shut down, every doubt and fear rising to the surface of his consciousness. Jack had left him once already and while he had returned, Ianto still didn't know whether the Doctor had facilitated that homecoming or if Jack had genuinely desired to leave the Time Lord and remain in Cardiff.

He didn't even want to think about Jack's feelings for Gwen.

When it came to day to day activities, Ianto could predict to the exact second when Jack would want another cup of coffee, or how long he would put off speaking with the Prime Minister or Queen or Whitehall official. He was always ready with what Jack - and by extension, the rest of the team - wanted or needed at the precise moment _before_ they asked for it. He prided himself on this ability.

Somehow, he completely failed at determining what Jack wanted from him when it was just the two of them. He tried - God, did he try! He didn't want to even _think_ of the time he had spent trying to figure out just what the hell he had with Jack and where they were headed. He's forced himself to be content with whatever they do have, and to look the other way whenever Jack did something that hurt him.

Oh, he's not been passive in whatever he and Jack have. His mam and tad didn't raise him to be a doormat. But he's also never pushed to find out what Jack thought of him, and just exactly why the immortal stayed with him.

He's not sure 'doped up on drugs' was the best way to have _this_ conversation but he didn't think Jack was going to let it go. He couldn't help but feel his heart flutter in panic at that thought.

He was pretty sure he didn't have the strength to deal with his own emotional fallout, should Jack confess he's only passing the time with Ianto because he's here and willing.

Jack had always been a tactile person so he was not that surprised to find the man still held his hand. He was surprised to feel Jack cupping his face. Surprised when Jack leant in and just seemed to _breathe_ in Ianto. Ianto's pretty sure that he looked as surprised as he felt. And that just seemed _wrong_.

It was usually at this point, when things got really and truly intimate between the two of them, that one or the other would pull back in some manner - physically, emotionally - whatever it took to protect the uncertain one's heart. The night Jack confessed he had no desire to return to his own time, the two of them had enjoyed a truly memorable return to the intimacy Ianto had held off from resuming when Jack had returned from his trip with the Doctor. But then Ianto had woken to find Jack gone from the bed and the next day, acting as if nothing had changed between them. He had been confused but refused to question the older man; he accepted each day as it happened and tried to figure out both what Jack wanted and what _he_ wanted. Until then, he was content for things to play out as they would.

But now, he just didn't _want_ to pull back, didn't want to just _know_ what Jack had to say. He was tired of playing games, tired of being _sensible_. Maybe it was the drugs or maybe it was the injuries and blood loss, but he wasn't going to run. He was ready for whatever the fuck they have, to be something more than what it is. And if Jack didn't want that, he would rather know so he could decide whether it was worth his time to continue on as they were. The older man took a deep breath and smiled sweetly and quietly and Duw! It's the small, intimate smile that Jack seemed to reserve just for him.

"I thought I had lost you, Ianto," he began, his hand reaching up and tracing Ianto's face. "When I saw you, on that damned street, all the blood! God, Ianto! I've not been that scared in so long."

"I'm still here, Jack."

"I know. And I'm so glad."

All of this was what Ianto expected from the man since his return. He just didn't know if there was something more to whatever they had… whether Jack would admit that he wasn't just scared because Ianto was under his command and they shared a bed, but because it was _Ianto_ and not any of the others. And Jack - he just seemed content to let the silence grow between them.

Ianto could see Jack gathering his thoughts and knew this was it. Unconsciously, he held his breath.

***

_His situation indeed was more than commonly joyful. He had more than the ordinary triumph of accepted love to swell his heart, and raise his spirits. He was released without any reproach to himself, from an entanglement which had long formed his misery, from a woman whom he had long ceased to love;—and elevated at once to that security with another, which he must have thought of almost with despair, as soon as he had learnt to consider it with desire. He was brought, not from doubt or suspense, but from misery to happiness;—and the change was openly spoken in such a genuine, flowing, grateful cheerfulness, as his friends had never witnessed in him before._

_***Then***_

"So how was the date?" Ann Marie asked, leaning in over the table. Her eyes twinkled like mad and Ianto thought it rather amusing how excited she seemed over his dating life. "Are you going to see her again? Have your team met her yet? More importantly, when will I get to meet her?"

Ianto smiled; "Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you? It was just one date, you know."

She snorted. "Oh please. You're so darned picky. She has to be special because otherwise you wouldn't have bothered asking her out."

"Well there is that."

"Come on Jonesy! I'm dying here! I'm living vicariously through you!" she whined and Ianto couldn't stop the burst of quiet laughter that just exploded out of him. Ann Marie had taken one look at him at orientation and decided (announced) they would be friends and that had been that. He hadn't regretted it - or at least not for long. She always made him smile.

"Wouldn't want that, would we?" he said as she pouted. "It was great. _She's_ great. We had a wonderful time and we're seeing each other again tomorrow night."

Ann Marie looked shocked and maybe she actually was and not just playing at it. "Wow. She must really be something if you're seeing her again so soon."

Ianto just smiled happily.

***

"Oh god! Ianto you're alive!"

He supposed it shouldn't surprise him too much that Ann Marie thought he hadn't lasted long after Canary Wharf. He had disappeared and returned to Cardiff in his doomed attempt to save Lisa and in doing so, hadn't exactly left a forwarding address. He returned her embrace, holding her as she cried into his shoulder. "Hush now. I'm here." He tried to comfort her, ignoring the stab of guilt he felt and the stares of her co-workers. He really should have tried to talk to her in the months since One fell. But he hadn't dared contact any of the survivors, never mind his one friend that had survived. He had been terrified that she would take one look at him or hear it in his voice and know that he was hiding something.

"Why didn't you let me know where you were?" she finally asked after she had calmed down.

"Wasn't ready." And that was enough for her because she could see the pain and suffering that still lingered in his eyes. Ianto also knew he would tell her what he had really done, but not now. He wasn't ready to relive it all yet.

Ann Marie now worked for UNIT and Ianto had been in their London headquarters as an escort to some alien tech they were borrowing from Torchwood. He had been pleased, if surprised, to see Ann Marie working there. They made plans for dinner and Ianto promised to keep in touch with her when he returned to Cardiff.

"So, anyone new in your life?" Ann Marie asked during dessert. Canary Wharf had been almost a year ago, and while Ianto and Lisa had been very much in love, Ianto had also been a member of Torchwood for over four years and knew that life was short, and he had to grab his own happiness when and where it came.

Ianto couldn't keep the blush from blooming on his face.

"Oh ho! Who is it?"

"Don't know if it's anything really. Still trying to figure it out." And wasn't that the truth. He and Jack had grown closer since his return and it even looked as if Jack wanted a proper relationship, but he neither confirmed nor denied it. Besides, Ianto still didn't know how he felt - whether he wanted something more permanent than an occasional bed warmer.

No matter how much Ann Marie pressed, Ianto just smiled mysteriously and refused to reveal who it was. She eventually gave up.

***

_Marianne Dashwood was born to an extraordinary fate. She was born to discover the falsehood of her own opinions, and to counteract, by her conduct, her most favourite maxims. She was born to overcome an affection formed so late in life as at seventeen, and with no sentiment superior to strong esteem and lively friendship, voluntarily to give her hand to another!—and THAT other, a man who had suffered no less than herself under the event of a former attachment, whom, two years before, she had considered too old to be married,—and who still sought the constitutional safeguard of a flannel waistcoat!_

_***Now***_

Jack stared at him before taking a deep breath. "Owen said you were incredibly lucky. That if we hadn't found you as soon as we did, you might not have made it." This surprised Ianto - considering they had all been in the same general area, it shouldn't have mattered how soon after they had found him. "I'm just glad we had some of the blood-clotters on hand." Ianto didn't know what to say so just remained quiet.

"The thing is, Ianto… I don't want to feel like that again. It was the worst I've felt in a really long time." Ianto could feel his heart cracking and it was only by the strictest amount of discipline that he didn't say anything. "But… I also know you. And I know you're not going to stop doing this just because I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what, Jack?" Ianto couldn't help but ask.

"Losing you." And it's so quiet and so heartfelt that it took Ianto a moment to actually process _what_ Jack had said.

"Oh." Well that certainly changed things and Ianto smiled, and yes, his smile was dopey from the drugs, but he also felt as if a weight he hadn't even known rested on him, lift with Jack's words.

Silence stretched between them and Jack looked as if he was waiting for something. "Is that all you're going to say?" he finally asked impatiently. Ianto realized that Jack was nervous: uncertain as to how Ianto would respond. And really? He's tired of constantly question what they have and who they were to one another.

"Oh, Jack," he began. "I can't promise to not get hurt. Not with this job. I can promise to be careful though." And it's enough. Ianto could see Jack's eyes clear and he's struck by the thought that Jack had been _nervous_ and completely uncertain as to Ianto's response. Captain Jack - known flirt and celebrated Casanova - a man so confident of himself and his abilities that his simply entering a room made everyone within it aware of who he was. But now, he's perched on Ianto's infirmary bed, uncertainty filling every aspect of his being and Ianto wanted nothing more than to capture _this_ exact moment for perpetuity. It's the most honest he's ever seen the Captain.

"Good. Good." And Jack breathed in deeply before cracking one of his famous smiles. "I'm going to hold you to that, Ianto Jones." And then he kissed Ianto and it was sweet and full of life and promises of what was to come.

***

Owen refused to let Ianto leave the Hub for another two days. Only when he was certain the wounds were finally healing and Ianto could last at least a few hours without being drugged to the gills, did he allow Ianto to return to his flat. Of course, this did not mean he was left on his own. Oh no. Tosh frequently stopped by during the day for a couple of hours, ostensibly to pick his brain on a program he was helping her to write for their archives. Owen usually checked up on him in the late afternoon to make sure he didn't suffer any lingering effects from the chemical or the wounds. Gwen almost always came by in the morning, bringing some breakfast and Rhys' good wishes. It was rather embarrassing for Ianto to realize just how much they all cared for him.

He vowed to actually show them how much he appreciated their attempts at comfort.

But it was Jack that surprised him the most. While Jack didn't flaunt their relationship before others, he certainly took a pleasure in gifting Ianto with little and simple things. A book here, a potted plant there. A DVD of an old movie he thought Ianto would enjoy. His presence at night in Ianto's bed. The first time Jack spent the night with Ianto - really, wholly spent the night, Ianto knew that Ann Marie would get to hear about Captain Jack Harkness. And yes, maybe this wasn't perfect and he didn't really expect Jack to continue on like this, but for now? This was what he wanted and he was happy to grasp it with both hands and pull it close to him.

_Fin_


End file.
